


It's About Getting Up

by MissjuliaMiriam



Series: DC Drabbles [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Scars, Self-Esteem, Self-Image
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-08
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissjuliaMiriam/pseuds/MissjuliaMiriam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To Tim, his scars are about pain, and about failure. Dick disagrees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's About Getting Up

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a drabble. Wrote it on a whim. Enjoy!

Tim loves Dick. Loves him more than life, and certainly loves him more than he loves himself. And he trusts Dick with everything that he has, except for one thing. Tim cannot, will not trust Dick with his skin. Will not trust him with his scars, because to Tim, they are ugly. Tim hides them under his clothes like they are a sin, like they are a failure, and believes that no one will ever want him because of them.

When they are together, even in the most intimate of ways, Tim will cloak himself in shadows, or in a loose button-down, or even covers Dick's eyes and does not let him see more skin than is needed. Tim is covered in scars just as much as any other Bat, just as much as Dick himself is, but he does not feel comfortable in his own skin. He is too skinny, not enough to back up flesh that is painted with scars. With failures, and wounds, and reminders of times that Tim fell and almost didn't get back up. They make Dick look strong, he thinks, they make him look wild and powerful, muscles moving beneath skin and scars that are as graceful as Dick himself. On Tim, they look weak.

Dick does not agree. He wants to see, to know Tim's stories, to see every inch of pale skin stretched out beneath him, lost and not worrying about whether Dick will be disgusted by him. Because Dick knows that that is what Tim thinks. What he wonders about constantly, frets over when they are together and apart. He wishes he could do something.

Then, one night, he stumbles across a chance. Because Tim trusts him, he lets Dick tie him up, lets him take soft silk rope and fasten him to the headboard of their shared bed, even lets Dick bare his legs. The scars there are bad too, Tim knows, but he thinks that Dick won't notice too much. He wears one of Dick's white button-downs, draped across his slim form, open enough at the collar that Dick can see the single scar on Tim's throat, and nothing more. Tim knows that Dick likes the tease clothing presents, and will probably not remove it. He trusts Dick to respect him boundaries, at least.

Dick steps out of the room for a minute, once Tim is tied up, and once he returns he is fully dressed. Tim is confused, because he wants Dick inside him, though the arousal is fading against the wash of confusion, and because he knows that Dick wanted him. Wanted him like this, tied and helpless. Tim thinks that perhaps he should untie himself, but one of Dick's hands comes to his wrists, reassuring him that this is fine, that they are okay.

“I love you, Tim,” Dick says, and there is something Tim cannot identify in his tone. “Trust me.”

“Of course,” Tim says, but when Dick's hands come to the buttons of the shirt, he tenses. “Dick,” he says, “what...”

“It's fine. Trust me, please.”

“Okay,” says Tim, “okay.”

Tim doesn't think he's ready to see revulsion on Dick's face. He will never be ready for that, so he closes his eyes as Dick undoes the first few buttons and pulls the collar away from Tim's skin, baring his collar bone. And his scars. Tim waits, silent, still, for Dick to pull away, to leave him here, alone. But he doesn't. Instead, Dick leans close enough that Tim can feels his breath, and presses a kiss to Tim's throat, just over the scar there.

“Tell me,” Dick says.

“Jason,” Tim replies. “Flip knife.”

Then a kiss to the long, thin scar that crosses Tim's collarbone, and the edge of the three jagged scars that drag over his right shoulder.

“The Riddler, with the tip of his staff,” Tim says, “and Killer Croc. Claws.”

“Thank you,” says Dick.

It goes on like that, Tim with his eyes squeezed shut as Dick makes his way down Tim's body, unbuttoning the shirt as he goes, pressing soft kisses to every scar, thanking Tim for every explanation. Tim knows every single one, knows every failure. He doesn't let himself forget the mistakes, or the pain they caused, so that he will never do it again. Tim expects Dick to stop at his waist ( _Poison Ivy, acid spitting flower_ ), or at his hip ( _just some street thug, badly aimed bullet, I was too slow_ ). But he doesn't. He does first one leg, and then the other. When he is finally finished, having even pressed kisses through the thin fabric to those scars he can feel on Tim's arms, he says, “Have you learned from this?”

Tim's eyes snap open, and he says, shaken, “What was the lesson, Dick? That I should be more careful, so that I don't mutilate myself more? Or perhaps that you are just as aware of these failures as I am?”

“No,” says Dick. “I wanted you to know that I see every one of these, and none of them are ugly to me. They're just stories. Just memories.”

“Memories of failures!”

Dick returns to Tim's chest, pressing kisses to scars at random now. “They make you beautiful,” he says, between kisses. “They make you strong. They remind of you times that you fell and then you got up again. They aren't about pain, and death, Tim, they're about life. They're about having the strength to survive in the face of adversity.”

Tim shakes beneath Dick's hands, beneath his lips, and he can feel tears in his eyes. “Untie me,” he says, and Dick does. Tim sits up on the bed, lets Dick gather him close.

“I'm sorry,” Dick says. “I didn't mean to upset you.”

“You didn't,” Tim chokes. “I love you. I'm not beautiful.” He says both things like they are facts of life, of existence.

“You are stunning,” Dick whispers fiercely. “And I will tell you that until you believe it, okay?”

“Okay,” says Tim. “Okay.”


End file.
